


There Can Be Only One

by Lisbeth_laufeyson



Category: Highlander - All Media Types, The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 15:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30040509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisbeth_laufeyson/pseuds/Lisbeth_laufeyson
Summary: For all of his immortal life Joe has been locked in a battle he doesn't want with others like him for a prize he cares nothing about. His life appears to be a never changing slog of solitude and fighting until, in Barcelona, someone takes a shot.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 10
Kudos: 64





	There Can Be Only One

**Author's Note:**

> Brought to you by 20 mins spent watching Highlander last night on TV, my rough memories of watching it before, and an idea that burst fully formed into my head.

The city square was busy with people enjoying the sun. Children ran in excited circles and occasionally threw coins in the fountains, and the adults sat around with faces turned to their children or up to the sun with the same smile.

Joe sat nearby at a table in an outdoor cafe. He had not been in Barcelona long, his life required remaining on the move, and it was nice to soak up the atmosphere of the bustling metropolis in a rare quiet moment. An undercurrent of chatter in a few different languages washed passed his ears, a fitting soundtrack to such a beautiful day.

Something in his chest throbbed. Confused, he looked down. Red bloomed out against his white shirt. He stood, hand on the knife hidden in his belt and looked around. People closest to him were rushing over to offer assistance though some fell back in shock. Joe roared at them all to get away but still they came. Joe stepped back, away from the cafe and its people and then he saw it. The glint of something metallic high on the roof across the square.

He did not have time to take another breath before all went dark.

#

Joe's lungs burned and he sat up. He pushed at the darkness around him, his hands coming into contact with a thick fabric. Voices clamoured in fear near him. Joe managed to manoeuvrer enough to free his knife and sliced through the body bag, freeing himself from it's confines. The ambulance staff stared opened mouthed and muttered over and over in Spanish. Joe put on as calm a demeanour as he could given the circumstances and asked in perfect Spanish.

“Stop, please? I'd like to go home.”

The ambulance immediately ground to a halt. Joe opened up his wallet and took out around 500 euros in various bills. “For your trouble, my friends. Your jobs are difficult enough without men like me not doing the curtsey of staying dead.” 

With gift laid upon the gurney he had recently departed, Joe opened the doors and sped from the back of the ambulance.

He got back to his rented rooms without anyone seeing him and immediately turned on the TV. As he watched the news his mood undulated between relief that no one else had been so much as scratched and the growing realization that the fact he was targetted meant one thing.

For all his long life, and it had been an insufferable dirge of years, Joe had been told the story of “The Prize.” The prize was the gift of all knowledge garnered by people like him, the anomalies, the ones who endured. Immortals. To gain this prize, and the power to either be humanity's greatest gift or its worst nightmare, immortals had to fight one another until one remained. 

In his thousand years of life, give or take, Joe had only been offered kindness from one other like him, his mentor, Quynh. She had appeared one day from lands far to the east, not long after Joe had been driven from his home after refusing to succumb to a disembowelling during the Crusades. She had taken him in, offered him a safe haven in which to rest and process what had happened to him, and then she had told him about the prize. And in all the lessons that followed Quynh had also imparted the most useful words ever spoken to him.

“You will have no choice.”

And she was right. Joe's first kill had been revenge for her decapitation, but every other immortal he dispatched had been forced upon him as a means of defence. He had been chased across the globe by his everlasting siblings, cut open, bones broken, dropped from buildings, hit by vehicles, but he had always got the killing blow in first. It had been close to a century since he had last been hunted, but as he had not received the prize he knew he was not done.

And now they had found him.

This immortal was skilled in ways he had not seen before. They had hit him with two shots without any one in the packed square noticing or getting hurt in the crossfire. Would a shot to the nape of his neck and severing his spinal chord count as a decapitation? Could this other immortal get rid of him without them ever coming face to face?

That would not happen! 

A challenge had been made, and Joe had full intentions of answering it face to face.

#

Despite drawing first blood, Joe's adversary seemed to have disappeared, leaving Joe with no choice but to move on before stories of his miraculous recovery caught up with him. Joe remained in Barcelona for a few more days looking for any traces of them then made a trip to Berlin where, once more, Joe was felled from afar with a bullet to the head. Despite searching in the city and actively calling the other man out he, once again disappeared. The same thing happened in Edinburgh, Chicago, Auckland, Johannesburg, until, finally, Joe realized what the other immortal was doing.

They were toying with him. Backing him into a corner before taking their final swing, and Joe, clueless as to who was on his heels, could do nothing except place a carefully coded ad in every Roman paper and on every Roman site calling to the sniper. All he could do now was hope he showed up and they could put the matter to rest.

He was running out of places to hide.

#

A dark, dingy, parking garage in Rome was not really the kind of venue Joe expected to meet someone who had hunted him for the best part of a year, but here they were. Joe glanced at his watch and followed the hand as it ticked out the last few seconds.

As soon as the seconds hand hit the hour a shadow appeared across from him in the parking garage. Joe could make out nothing but wide shoulders and the hilt of some kind of weapon sticking out from their hip.

“So you finally show your face, coward?” Joe snarled.

“Every man deserves a last request fulfilled.” The other immortal's voice was deep and heavily accented, yet the tone was soft. 

Joe stepped closer. “We settle this now! Hand to hand.” He drew his sword. “There can be only one!”

His hunter slowly drew his own sword then lunged.

Their swords clashed hard enough to draw sparks. They moved apart, circled for a moment, then clashed again. Steel grated against steel, the whine making the short hairs on Joe's arms stand on end. He tried to free his dagger from the holster on his hip but his enemy was quicker at drawing his own. Joe fell to one knee as the short blade buried deep in his thigh.

The broadsword shimmered in the dim light of the parking garage. A sickly orange glow revealed a handsome face twisted by rage and partially hidden in the shadows of a hood, and large green eyes focused on swinging the killing blow. Joe kicked out at his knee and sent the other man down on his back.

He ran as his adversary gave chase, rounded a white van, and came upon his opponent from behind. He raised his blade, his eyes seeing nothing but the hoodie that hid the man's neck from him, and struck.

The force of the blade striking rattled up the metal and into his arm, shattering first his fingers and then his wrist, forcing Joe to drop his sword. With a flourish, the immortal threw back his hood and revealed the collar around his neck. It looked such a delicate thing, made of four ropes of interlocking loops, and yet it had deflected Joe's blade with destructive force.

“You are woefully unprepared.” The collared man grabbed Joe by his shirt stepped in until they were nose to nose. “And it will be your undoing.”

Joe gazed up into the face of his killer, taking in everything from his expressive eyes to the lips pulled back in a snarl. His heart thudded against his ribs, sweat slicked his brow. Blood flushed the cheeks of his assailant as it did his own, and from the pulse point throbbing above the collar, it was plain that the hunter's heart also raised. And soon one of them, so vibrant and pulsing with life, would be still.

“Why?” Joe whispered.

The frown smoothed out. “Why?” the other immortal repeated.

“Who decided there must be only one?”

The snarl too disappeared, as did the glare in his eyes and all were replaced with deep confusion as the man wrestled with Joe's question. Joe broke the loose hold that remained on his shirt and took opportunity of the confusion to run.

He was not one to hide, nor to back out from a fight, but he could not strike the man down now, not with him warring with the implications of such a question just as Joe was. If he came for him again then Joe would make his choice then but, right now, he was content to leave him standing as far away from Joe as possible.

#

There was one thing Joe had not expected in the aftermath of his battle with this newest in a long line of hostile immortals and that was the inability to shake him from his thoughts. He had not seen much, thanks to the hooded top he wore and the dingy lights in the parking garage, but what he had seen and heard he could not forget. Those eyes, which had seemed uncommonly large and yet utterly right for the man's face all in the same breath. The accent which was like music to his ears. The interwoven chain of such beauty and strength pressed to pale skin in a life saving caress. All these details and more swam through his head whenever he wasn't deeply focused on something else.

Joe took to drawing, something he had not touched since gaining immortality, and found the books he purchased for the purpose full of sketches of his hunter, his would be killer if he had not disarmed him with one simple question. He drew so much he could not possibly have seen in the heat of battle and yet there it was on the paper, a mole on the right cheek, earrings in the lobes of the man's hair. Hair long enough to be tied back even if it was in a short ponytail. He could identify the man in any crowd, he knew him so well, and yet he not seen him since.

It was as if he had vanished from the world. Joe saw no trace of him on any news station across the world, and he had not appeared in the background of any photos, not that Joe could look through every photo ever posted online, and he never saw him watching, waiting, or dogging Joe's steps like he had done so diligently before. 

Absence made the heart grow desperate. Joe hungered for the man though he tried to turn his thoughts from him, and nothing seemed to settle that desire. He slept with mortals that had a passing resemblance to him then tried to wean himself from his infatuation by steering clear of anyone who so much shared the other immortals accent. Nothing worked! Joe had to endure it until their paths eventually crossed again. And they would cross, of that Joe held no doubt.

There could, of course, be only one, though no one seemed to know why.

#

It was late. The air still held the heat of the day helped along by the stone walls and flagstone walkways of Rome. Joe had been back here since his fight with the green eyed immortal who had set his soul alight in futile hope of seeing him again but perhaps a decade would be long enough for him to consider crossing Joe's path again.

The hairs on the back of Joe's neck stood though his heart sank. He knew before he turned that it would not be the immortal he was looking for but yet another of their kind, hungry for blood. A brute of a man approached him, all rippling muscle and heavy brow. He clutched his sword, a wide bladed monster of a weapon, in one hand and pointed it at Joe.

“I know,” Joe sighed, cutting him off. “There can be only one.”

Armed only with dagger, and his new accessory of a steel collar around his neck. Joe met his new adversary head on. The man was strong. Each parry jarring Joe's limbs and knocking him back, but still Joe fought on, his immortal life depended on it.

The huge blade arced up and sliced through Joe's hand. Joe stumbled back, clutching the stump tightly as it throbbed with agonising, healing, energy. The giant grabbed him by the neck and forced him up against a wall.

“You think that little necklace will stop your head leaving your body?” he growled. “Say--”

His words died on his lips and his eyes dulled. Joe caught the weight of the giant as he slumped forward, then pushed as hard as he could so the man fell back onto the ground. Grabbing his dagger in his left hand, his right, though regenerated, was too weak still, Joe drove it as deep as he could into the immortal's neck and continued to hack away until the head rolled free. Embedded deep into the spine, nestled in the spongy disc between bone, was a single bullet. A deep rage inflamed him. All this time waiting to see the Sniper again and this was how he showed himself?

“Will you shoot me now?!” Joe bellowed towards the rooftops. He made quick work of the clasps that held his collar in place and threw it to the ground. “I know you did not do this to spare me. Kill me now and be done with it!”

The shot never came. Joe paced like a cage animal for a moment then walked away. The hunter from all those years ago was probably following him but he did not care. The man would either be ruthless enough to take a shot or attack him or would continue to follow him. The only outcome Joe really wanted would never happen!

Joe reacted to the thud behind him too late. For the second time in less than an hour he found himself against the wall, pinned there by a man who held a blade to his throat. Ah there they were. The details he had committed to memory without remembering the sight of them. The mole upon his right cheek and the earrings in his lobes. Joe fought the urge to touch them.

“I knew it would be us at the end,” his hunter said, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “Why else would I see you in my dreams or when my mind wanders.”

Joe snorted a laugh, “Does the thought of me make your heart beat faster too?”

The other immortal scowled. “Do not speak! You and I are the last. I made sure of it. I had hoped another would take you out before I had to.”

“I'm afraid not.” Joe could not tear his eyes from him. The rage was not present but something else lurked deep in his beautiful eyes. “If you want me dead you will have to do it yourself.”

The man hesitated for a moment then Joe felt cold steel pressed to his stomach. “Fight me!”

“No! There doesn't have to be only one.”

“This is our destiny. Fight!”

“No!”

The dagger flashed in the light of the street lamps and Joe's chin was forced up with the flat of the blade. 

“Why?” the man hissed.

Joe stumbled over the millions of words he wanted to say and chose instead to grab chains around around the man's neck, haul him forward, and kiss him.

For one, heart stoppin,g moment, the dagger pierced his skin, but then it fell with a clatter to the ground and the man's now empty hands buried deep in the short curls of Joe's hair. His kiss was gentle yet urgent. His tongue probed at Joe's lips and he gladly parted them to taste the other immortal's breath.

Joe's hands seemed to be everywhere at once, first pawing at the baggy hoodie the man wore then freeing the hunter's hair from the tie that bound it. His cock hardened and pressed against his jeans.

“Not here,” he mumbled and grabbed the man's hands as the fumbled with his belt. “I have somewhere we can go.”

Joe led the way back to his rented rooms and as soon as the door was locked behind them he found himself back in the arms of a man who had tried to kill him a decade ago. This time, he did not stop him when he fought with Joe's belt and smiled at the speed at which is newfound lover sought to undress him, a speed Joe matched when disrobing the sniper. Underneath the baggy clothing, Joe found a body that, though toned and strong, carried a little padding in all the right places. He dropped to his knees and pressed his lips again and again to his lovers soft belly.

“Your name?” Joe whispered against his pale skin. 

“Nicky,” his lover answered after a short pause.

“Nicky,” Joe repeated as an appreciative sigh. “Call me Joe.”

He lowered his head and took Nicky's cock in his mouth. Fingers once again tangled in the curls of his hair but did not pull or push, merely held on as Joe worked his magic with tongue and lips. Nicky moaned softly above him and his thighs shook under Joe's hands.

“Joe, stop,” he whispered.

Immediately, Joe let Nicky's cock slide from his lips. Nicky bowed and kissed him, his tongue filling Joe's mouth. “I want you,” he mumbled against Joe's lips.

Joe purred deep in his throat. He got to his feet and led Nicky to the bedroom. He fished condoms and a bottle of lube from his bag, he had not had a chance to unpack yet, and placed them within easy reach upon the night stand. 

Nicky threw a half smile as Joe stretched out on the bed. “You're not afraid I will kill you when you're distracted?”

Joe grinned. “I have never feared you would kill me. You wasted so many opportunities.” He beckoned Nicky closer. “Take me, Nicky.”

With a growl, Nicky pushed him back on the bed. Their teeth clashed in their need for each other. Joe moaned into Nicky's mouth as Nicky's long fingered hand closed around his cock and stroked slowly.

His own hand found Nicky's cock, savoured the weight of it against his palm, the feel of the hungry pulse of want that travelled the length of it every so often. He moved his hand to match Nicky's speed. 

Nicky broke the kiss and reached over for the lube. He rolled to Joe's side on his back as he coated his fingers then leaned over him once more. Joe closed his eyes and basked in delicious anticipation until he felt Nicky's finger slowly push inside.

Joe was no stranger to sex, and, by what he had seen so far, neither was Nicky but in all those times he had never felt such pleasure just from someone's fingers inside him. Maybe because he had never been with another immortal before, and who knew how many year of experience Nicky had? Regardless of the whys, Joe was a moaning, writhing mess by the time Nicky had three fingers in him and though he felt close to shattering he only wanted more.

“Nicky?”

The question could have been many things but Nicky seemed to know exactly what Joe meant and, slowly, Nicky's fingers left him.

“Calm yourself,” Nicky soothed. He petted Joe's face and placed gentle kisses to his face and neck. “Or you will be done before we have even begun.”

Joe shivered at his words. “I would be done again and again in your arms.”

Nicky smiled. “And me in yours. But lets focus on this time, for now.”

Joe watched as Nicky tore open the condom packet. Their eyes met as he rolled the latex over his cock and Nicky's face, reddened already by their activities, flushed a deeper shade. Without a word he settled between Joe's legs.

Joe moaned loudly as Nicky slide inside him. He reached out blindly, grabbing first Nicky's shoulders and then his hands, where they rested on Joe's hips. Nicky moved fluidly, not stopping until he was fully inside, then leaned over Joe, his hands placed either side of Joe's head.

Nicky's mouth hung open in a silent cry. The only noise between them gasping breath and pounding hearts. He moved slowly, drawing out barely before sliding back in and then drawing himself out further and further until he withdrew just leaving the head inside before thrusting back in.

Joe grabbed Nicky's ass in both hands and pulled him in, urging him to go faster, harder, until their moans competed with the creaking of the bed and the singing of the springs. His whole body throbbed with waves of pleasure. His cock twitched with it and spilled precome onto his stomach. He bit his lip until it bled and urged his orgasm back.

Nicky's thrusts fell out of time. Joe reached out to pet his cheek and rub the pad of his thumb against Nicky's lower lip. The move was rewarded by the tiniest kiss to his palm. He wrapped his other hand around his own throbbing cock and stroked hard and fast until his come spurted onto both his and Nicky's stomachs. His name fell from Nicky's lips like a whispered prayer and, within moments Nicky followed Joe over the edge. Their gaze never left one another.

Joe grabbed the chains around Nicky's neck and tugged him close. They kissed hard, swallowing each others moans until both lay still and kisses became slow and soft. After a moment to catch his breath, Nicky withdrew from Joe's body and lay by his side. 

Joe rolled over to face him, a mischievous smile on his face. “Why?”

After a moment Nicky laughed. “Why this? You ask like I made this choice all on my own.” 

Joe grinned. “I know why this happened. Because we both realize that we need each other, that immortality is nothing but a curse without another to share it.”

Nicky seemed to think for a moment. “And that answers your other question I suppose?”

Joe shrugged. “Maybe it does. Maybe, if another had been the only other one left then things would have been different.”

“I'm glad it was you,” Nicky whispered.

Joe took his hand. “Perhaps that is the only answer that makes sense. There can be more than one if they choose it. There has always been more than one before now and now there is just us two.”

Nicky sighed. “And there could have been more if...”

“No,no, we will not blame ourselves for this. The others fought, they came looking for us.”

“And I hunted them. I am not innocent.” Nicky rolled onto his back. “I would have killed you.”

“And I would have killed you,” Joe said. He turned Nicky's face to him. “But we know better now, don't we.” He pressed a kiss to Nicky's lips.

Nicky smiled. “This is definitely more fun than killing.”

“And we can do it again and again,” Joe purred. “Unlike being decapitated.”

“I had hoped you would say that,” Nicky whispered. “I wasn't sure if this would be all there was.”

Joe laughed, “And go back to a decade of thinking about you every waking moment with no hope of being near you? Why would I put myself through the pain.” He stroked the back of Nicky's hand with his thumb. “You were right, Nicky. This is our destiny. We just misunderstood exactly what it was.”

“A lesson thankfully learned before it was too late.” Nicky buried his hand in Joe's hair and pulled him close. They kissed until they were breathless.

“Are you sure you won't miss having all the knowledge of those like us?” Joe mumbled against his lips.

“How can I miss what I never had, besides we are immortal, Joe,” Nicky whispered back. “Between us, we can learn everything everything there ever was to know.” He kissed the end of Joe's nose. “And really, what would either of us do with all that knowledge without someone to share it with?”

“I would gladly trade it all for another night spent gazing into your eyes,” Joe said.

Nicky laughed softly. “You are an incurable romantic.”

Joe grinned. “And you have the rest of eternity to hear it.”

Nicky nuzzled his nose against his. “I look forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am not used to writing these characters. I have tried only once before and abandoned the fic pretty quick. Im not sure how close to character they are but I like this piece a lot so I posted it :)


End file.
